


Pressure the Passionate

by servecobwebheadaches



Series: The Sex Pollen Fanfictions [1]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic, Fanfiction, Fantasy, Fingering, Fluff, M/M, PWP, Rydon, Sex, Smut, Top!Ryan, blowjob, bottom!Brendon, finger-sucking, sex pollen AU, sex-pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4888561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servecobwebheadaches/pseuds/servecobwebheadaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't Brendon's fault that the one fanfiction he read ended up making him and Ryan need constant sex.</p>
<p>It wasn't even a bad thing at all, actually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pressure the Passionate

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of A Fever You Can't Sweat Out turning ten, I present: sex pollen-ish ryden smut. You can picture Ryan and Brendon in any era you want! Enjoy.

It was a Wednesday night, and Ryan believed Brendon to be busy on his laptop, so Ryan was watching a movie by himself. Ryan vaguely thought he might have heard Brendon mutter something, but it was probably just background noise from the TV. Quickly getting bored without Brendon watching the movie with him, Ryan called out, "B? You wanna come watch this with me?"

"I'll be there in a minute," Brendon said.

And, only a few minutes later, Brendon strode out to Ryan, seated himself in Ryan's lap, and said, "I really need you to fuck me."

"Umm—"

"Please, Ryan." Brendon kissed Ryan on the lips, hard, and rocked his hips down once for emphasis. Ryan had no idea what could possibly be putting Brendon in this mood, and so early in the night. Brendon reached for the button of Ryan's jeans, and Ryan didn't stop him. Ryan couldn't have resisted Brendon, not with the knowledge of what Brendon's lips could do to him. After pushing Ryan's pants down to his ankles, Brendon dropped to his knees between Ryan's legs, eyeing Ryan's hardening cock and thin thighs. Looking at Ryan with a hazy glint in his eyes, Brendon sucked two of his own fingers into his mouth, coating them with saliva to reach into his pants and start teasing his hole open. While doing so, Brendon wrapped his lips around the tip Ryan's cock. As Brendon pushed the first finger in his hole, he inched his lips up Ryan's cock, taking more in his mouth and tonguing the skin slowly but greedily. Ryan had his palms pressing into his knees, breath quickening.

Brendon pushed a second finger into himself, and took Ryan's cock all the way in his mouth. The head of his cock pressed into the back of Brendon's throat, and Brendon just sucked the skin, flicking his tongue up the shaft until Ryan bucked his hips forward. Brendon's mouth jolted off Ryan's cock by a couple inches, and Brendon's fingers shifted inside of him, stretching him open a bit more. Brendon reached his free hand up to cup one of Ryan's hips, to still him. Ryan sunk back into the cushions, and Brendon sucked him back into his mouth, resuming where he'd left off.

Brendon's fingers brushed his prostate, and he made a noise of pleasure around Ryan's cock. The vibration of it went straight up Ryan's spine, and his eyelids fluttered. "Fuck, I'm going to come," Ryan said. Brendon squeezed Ryan's hip in acceptance, and Ryan let go, an airy sound escaping his lips as he came down Brendon's throat. Brendon swallowed every drop, and moved away from Ryan's cock.

"Holy fuck, Brendon, what—" Ryan panted, but was cut off by the sight of Brendon stripping himself of his clothes.

"Need, fuck me, please, need you inside me," Brendon suddenly begged. He straddled himself over Ryan's lap again, erect cock brushing Ryan's stomach.

"Okay, okay." Ryan would question Brendon's desperation later, but at the moment was only concerned with pleasing his boyfriend. He took Brendon's waist and laid him down on the couch, on his back. Ryan straddled Brendon now, but realized, "We need lube, and—"

"N-no," Brendon interrupted. "Please, oh, Ryan, don't leave. I need you to fuck me now, Ryan, please," Brendon repeatedly pleaded.

"Okay, you're ready, got it," Ryan said.

"Yes, please, now—oh . . ." Brendon moaned as Ryan pushed into him, the filled feeling he was craving being satisfied. Ryan fucked him, and only a few thrusts in, Brendon was coming without touching himself. Yet he hardly noticed, and neither did Ryan, more focused on keeping Brendon well-fucked. Brendon began touching himself, timed with the thrusts of Ryan's hips, coming for a second time before Ryan finished inside him.

Ryan looked at the mess of Brendon's come across both of their stomachs, and said, "We should shower, and you should come with me." He pulled out of Brendon, only for Brendon to make a fuss, whining.

"No, please, don't go. I need you still, fuck, more, Ryan."

"You need more?" Ryan questioned, disbelieving. "You just came twice."

"I know, but I need to be full, I need your cock, your fingers, Ryan, please—"

"Hey, Brendon, calm down, seriously," Ryan said, making his way back over to Brendon. There was a hazy look in Brendon's eyes when Ryan looked into them, lustful. Ryan knew Brendon could be insatiable, sometimes taking hours before he was satisfied, but he was never on the brink of incoherent begging if Ryan wasn't fucking him. Brendon's cock was fully hard again, already. "What happened? Did you take a pill or something . . .? Why do you need sex so bad right now?" Ryan asked.

"No, Ryan . . ." Brendon whined. "I feel so empty . . . Your fingers, Ryan, I need—"

"Babe! I'm not joking. What the hell's going on?"

Brendon seemed to snap out of it for only a moment, just to say, "I got curious and read a thing, and I don't know what it did to me, but, fuck, I need you to touch me so bad—"

"What thing? What did you read?"

"On the Internet—no, Ryan, don't leave—" Brendon got up to trail behind Ryan, who was going to find Brendon's laptop and read whatever Brendon was talking about.

"Brendon, lover, go to bed, or something. Sleep it off, I don't know. I'll be there in a few minutes." Ryan brushed his fingertips across Brendon's bare lower back, a promise.

Brendon pouted ridiculously for a moment. "Please hurry."

"Yeah, okay," Ryan said. He ran his fingers through Brendon's hair, and Brendon shivered under the touch. He turned around from Brendon to search for Brendon's laptop, which he found in only a matter of seconds. Ryan heard one of Brendon's moans coming from upstairs, and he wondered how it was possible this happened.

When Ryan opened the laptop, the screen immediately lit up with a mainly white page filled with black words. Ryan scrolled to the top of the page to find that it was a fanfiction. Ryan mentally cursed Brendon for doing this to himself, but he started reading it anyway.

It began with heated sex, no introduction or foreplay, Ryan's character fucking Brendon's. There was a bunch of Ryan praising Brendon for being so good to him, and, "Brendon only found himself being capable of moaning back, overcome by the pleasure he had needed." Ryan fucked him for what the author described as, "Hours, before Ryan gave in and climaxed inside Brendon." Brendon's character had came multiple times before the scene was over. There was a break, and another sex scene started up again. This time, Brendon had himself on a bed, on his hands and knees, begging, while Ryan only finger fucked him.

There were numerous scenes before the end, all of them Ryan hated to admit were stupidly hot. They had him thinking about Brendon, non stop, how Brendon looked when he was being fucked, Brendon's lips, Brendon's ass.

The very last words of the story were, "Wednesday night - 6 p.m."

And it was Wednesday night when Brendon stumbled across the story.

Ryan shut the laptop, and walked out of the room, cock hard again. Fucking hell. His mind was racing, telling him to get to Brendon. Brendon Brendon Brendon. Because he needed him. Instantly.

There was a certain relief Ryan had never felt before when he entered the bedroom and caught sight of Brendon. He could've sworn he was about to come just from seeing Brendon, who was laid out and fingering himself. Ryan cursed under his breath, mindlessly. Suddenly, all the begging and pleading Brendon had been doing made sense, and it didn't seem so impossible for Brendon to not be sated. Ryan felt an overwhelming desire to get his hands all over Brendon's body, to have Brendon's lips on him.

"Brendon," Ryan said, and it came out breathy, a higher tone than Ryan expected. It was dizzying, how much he needed Brendon, nothing like any lust or arousal he'd ever felt before.

The best part was, Brendon needed him just as much.

Ryan bent over the mattress, just to kiss Brendon's lips, appreciating the feel and taste of them with a whole new vigor. It wasn't nearly enough, there was so much more they needed to do, and Ryan pulled away first. "Baby, come here," Brendon panted. He grabbed Ryan's hips and sat up to suck Ryan's cock, motions sloppy because he was moving too fast.

Ryan was fucking Brendon's mouth, helpless, and Brendon was bobbing his head to accommodate. Before Ryan could come, Brendon pinned him to the bed, sitting between his hips. "Let me ride you," Brendon said. Ryan quickly nodded, shifting so Brendon could straddle him. Brendon pushed himself down on Ryan's cock with ease, and begun rocking his hips, getting Ryan deeper in him. Ryan was getting impatient, just laying there, and he brought his hands to Brendon back, reaching them downward to grab Brendon's ass. He brought his hand back to spank Brendon's cheeks, fingers splayed, just the way he remembered Brendon liked. Brendon had his head thrown back, throat exposed, Adam's apple more prominent as he moaned Ryan's name.

Brendon circled his hips so Ryan's cock was hitting his prostate with every movement. He came the second Ryan's fingers made contact with his cock, bucking into Ryan's hand, spouting off desperate words. "Don't stop, please, it feels so good, baby, you feel so good, Ryan, so f-full," Brendon stuttered as Ryan came, filling him up with warm come.

Pulling himself off Ryan's cock, Brendon shuddered. He felt achy, empty, and his muscles contacted around nothing but air, making him spring into action again.

He kissed the tip of Ryan's softening cock, to request, "Touch me—I need to be fucked, your fingers . . ."

Ryan bit his lip, pulling Brendon closer to him. His fingernails scratched down Brendon's back, with a purpose, smoothing around the swell of his ass. He dipped a finger in Brendon's entrance, an invitation for Brendon to take Ryan's cock in his mouth. Ryan pushed another finger into Brendon, and Brendon groaned around Ryan's cock. Brendon's hands were gripping Ryan's thighs, steadying his position with his mouth around Ryan's cock and his hips pushing into the bed between Ryan's legs. Brendon was rutting against the mattress, while simultaneously leaning his hips back into Ryan's thrusting fingers.

"Brendon," Ryan moaned. "You feel so good, your mouth—"

Ryan pushed a third finger into Brendon, like it was a reward, like it was a gift for Brendon having a perfect mouth. The movement of Brendon's hips sped up, feeling his cock begin to leak in the space between his stomach and the mattress, as Ryan's fingers pressed up into his prostate. It was all too much, and he was coming, dripping on the bedsheets with his lips stilling on Ryan's cock.

He didn't need time to recover, to take a break, he just continued sucking Ryan off. He pushed back into Ryan's fingers, making a frustrated noise from the back of his throat, to tell Ryan to continue fingering him. He didn't think he wanted Ryan's fingers to ever move away from where they were in him, pressed right against his prostate. He loved Ryan's fingers—bony, long, and thin, always knowing exactly how to treat him in the best way.

Ryan glanced down to see Brendon entranced again, full lips stretched around Ryan's cock. "You're so good, Brendon, you have no idea, if you could see yourself right now . . ."

The bed was shifting a little bit with the intensity of the thrusts Brendon was doing against the mattress—rubbing himself off again in the bed sheets, which were already wet with his come—and Ryan's hips jerked up into Brendon's mouth, because no, that shouldn't have been as hot as it was. Ryan curled his fingers inside Brendon, only with the intention of drawing a moan from him, but instead, Brendon was coming again, just from that, resistance gone.

Ryan's eyes rolled back from Brendon's tongue involuntarily licking over a certain spot of skin on his cock, and he pressed the fingertips of his other hand into the flesh of Brendon's ass. Brendon's lips popped off Ryan's cock, and he looked at Ryan and said, "Come for me." He wrapped his lips around Ryan's cock, and Ryan came, Brendon eagerly swallowing all of it.

Brendon took his face away from Ryan's cock, and Ryan slowly removed his fingers from inside Brendon. The sex seemed to have taken no energy out of Brendon, and he moved up Ryan's body to bite and lap at his neck, get him hard against. Brendon didn't need to be told the effect his lips had on Ryan, he knew they were Ryan's favorite. "I need your cock," Brendon breathed down Ryan's chest.

"Let me fuck you," Ryan said. He rolled Brendon over to position himself on top of him, to give them both what they couldn't seem to get enough of.

It went on for hours more, begging and praising, fingering and fucking. Ryan couldn't have wrapped his thoughts around anything else if he tried; all he could think about was what he was doing with Brendon. No how or why it was possible for them to keep going at it like that, but just how good it felt, how Ryan couldn't dream of stopping.

It was midnight, and Brendon was practically laying on top of Ryan, kissing hungrily while grinding their hips into each others'. Brendon pulled away, stopping the movement of pelvises between them. He looked semi-tired, semi-confused when he said, "I don't think we should do this again tonight. I don't think we can do this again tonight."

"No," Ryan agreed. "I just got hit with tiredness."

Brendon flopped himself down next to Ryan. "Holy shit," Brendon said. "It's midnight."

"No way."

They'd snapped out of the lustful state they had been in, back to normal.

"Six hours. Have we ever had sex for six hours straight? Has anyone ever had sex for six hours straight? That's fuckin' weird, right?"

"Yeah . . . That doesn't just happen."

"Huh," Brendon said. He nuzzled his nose into the hickeys he left on Ryan's neck. "We'll think about it in the morning. I need to sleep."

"Yeah, you and me both. I love you," Ryan said.

"I love you too, baby."

And sleep they did.

>>>>

Eventually, it became a routine. They knew what they were doing, how to prepare for the bouts of insatiability that washed over them. It was always the same time every week—Wednesdays from six to twelve at night—but they still didn't know what was going on the second week. They were at home, luckily, sitting across from each other, eating dinner. The clock struck six, and the feeling moved quick.

Brendon dropped his fork onto his plate, eyes drawn to Ryan's fingers holding a fork and knife. Ryan soon dropped what he was holding as well, something instinctual bringing him to stare at Brendon's lips.

They made eye contact, and, within a matter of minutes, were fucking against the nearest wall, pants not even pulled all the way off.

The third week, they had refused to accept it as a pattern, and went about normal business. When the time of the day came, they raced to find each other, fell in bed together. They didn't remove clothes or kiss, Brendon took two of Ryan's fingers between his lips, treated them like they were his cock. Brendon kept eye contact with Ryan through it, while Ryan came apart, because it did feel nearly as good as Brendon sucking his cock. Ryan developed quite the thing for Brendon's lips and mouth, while Brendon yearned for Ryan's fingers. So it worked, Ryan's fingers in Brendon's mouth.

They pushed their hips together, hardened cocks touching through fabric, grinding against each other. Their eyes were locked, glazed over and transfixed. They got off like that, grinding on each other, coming in their pants like they had no stamina.

But of course, they didn't stop having sex for the next six hours.

Otherwise, the couple made sure that they were always home and together for those six hours a week. They were busy people, but subconsciously shifted their schedules so they were together when they needed to be.

Yet, it was inevitable for one of them to forget. Ryan woke up and was one hundred percent sure it was Tuesday morning. Later in the day, while Brendon was busy taking care of the dogs, Ryan left the house, going to the store to pick up that special type of wine Brendon loved—only available at the store on Tuesdays. He arrived at the store, searching for where he typically found it, but it wasn't there. A store employee informed him that it was in fact Wednesday night.

Ryan checked the time. 5:50 p.m. He had approximately ten minutes to get home to Brendon. Ryan rushed to his car, angry that Brendon hadn't reminded him before he left so late in the day and angry at the stupid fucking fanfiction for cursing them with this thing. They had settled between the two of them that it was the story Brendon discovered that somehow put them on this schedule, but they could hardly complain because it was sex and alone time together.

Ryan's anger slowly dissipated as the clock clicked over to six, and Ryan felt more guilty than mad. Guilty that he had forgotten, guilty that he had left the house at all that night, guilty because Brendon was probably going to be waiting for him, maybe already naked and hard, laying across some piece of furniture because he'd gotten too desperate to make it to the bed, and when Ryan got home, Brendon would whine dirty talk until he was getting fucked, and he'd be sweating and trembling because of how neglected he was without Ryan there the whole time, and—shit. Ryan had a hard on, in his car, only about halfway home. It was five past six, and Ryan was feeling it. His heart was pounding; he could hear every beat and it sounded like Brendon's name.

Ryan pulled in the driveway, 6:15, and tossed his keys aside the second he walked in the door. "Brendon?" Ryan called, voice off pitch, because the house was quiet and Brendon wasn't right by the door waiting for him. He started heading upstairs, stripping his clothes as he went. When he was farther up the staircase, he could hear Brendon's soft moans, coming from the bedroom. Ryan, naked, walked in the room, and had to use all his willpower to not touch Brendon all over the second he saw him. Brendon laid on Ryan's side of the bed, two fingers up his ass and his other hand around his own cock. He had already jerked himself off once, in desperation, although it wasn't good enough, not without Ryan.

"Brendon, baby boy, I'm so sorry—" Ryan started, voice shaking. He needed to come, soon, and Brendon was right there.

"R-Ryan?" Brendon whimpered. "Ryan, baby, fuck, get over here."

And Ryan was there, leaning over him with a kiss, coaxing Brendon's fingers out of his hole to replace them with his instead. Ryan thumbed over the head of Brendon's leaking cock, knowing that Brendon was close again. "Fuck me," Brendon demanded, to which Ryan was eager to comply. He wasn't hasty about pulling his fingers out, but was quick to slide his cock in, not wanting to keep Brendon empty for long.

Brendon came while Ryan was still pushing his way in, crying out. Brendon's legs, wound around Ryan's waist, only pushed Ryan in deeper, because Brendon needed more. Ryan rocked his hips into Brendon, groaning because the tight heat around him was somehow better than he remembered. Ryan wrapped his slender fingers around Brendon's cock, making him come faster than if Brendon were doing it himself.

Ryan would learn a lot about Brendon every night like those. What to do to make him come the fastest, how to prep him the easiest, from which angle he most liked to be fucked. Their nights together may or may not have been their favorites, not that they would ever admit it to each other.  
But they agreed that they would never go searching for fanfiction again, no matter how much it was brought up in interviews. They hadn't told anyone what happened, and came up with petty excuses together of why they were busy on Wednesday nights.

The other nights when they would get caught up in the moment, end up fucking, were never as good, but they wouldn't admit that, either. Those six hours were enough to almost always leave Brendon sore, Ryan feeling boneless, and nothing compared to it.

They wouldn't have changed it for anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know how I did with this smut? I'm kind of new to it. Also, which era did you picture when reading? Thank you!


End file.
